


Yes Ma'am

by Aenithon



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Play, F/M, Foot Jobs, Hand Jobs, Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenithon/pseuds/Aenithon
Summary: It's really hard to keep secrets when your primary function is recording your observations. Especially when you work with a woman with an ass like 2B's.(Written for a weekly twitter poll. Every Wednesday I do a poll for a fic, feel free to drop by @Aenithon on twitter.)
Relationships: 9S/Commander White (NieR: Automata)
Kudos: 13





	Yes Ma'am

Commander White's room – a heady thought, but one with little time left for him to consider the attendants of before the door slid open.

“Enter.”  
“Y-yes ma'am!”

“Designation.”  
“YoRHa Number 9 Type S, ma'am!”

The commander turned, the motion causing the trailing tresses of her dress to swirl, showing just the slightest more skin than normal.

But it wasn't right to be focusing on that right now, was it?

Looking about the room was no reprieve – it was a mess, but moreover a mess that included a troubling amount of the YoRHa commander's underclothes.

“Something troubling you, scanner?” She took a commanding step forward, crop poised in the arm crooked to her hip.  
“N-no ma'am. Y-your orders?” It came out as something more like a plea.

“I want you to share your observations regarding your current mission.”

“But can't all of that be accessed through my data sync? It's much more efficient and won't be colored by any bias or the imprecision of verbal communication.”

“The bias is precisely what I'm interested in.”

“I... I'm not sure I follow you. As androids, shouldn't be try to minimize that wherever possible?”

“What do you think of Number 2 Type B?”

“Number 2 – er, 2B – is the most capable combat android – er, android period – that I've ever served alongside. With her in command, I've never encountered a hopeless situation.”

“Is that all?”

“Um, without a specific question, it's-”

“What about her body?”

9S's legs shot together. _Not now. Not here._

The commander took a step forward. “Am I to understand you haven't taken the time to evaluate it? Perhaps this will jog your memory.”

Data windows popped up all over 9S's vision – there was no counterhacking when it was an order from the commander through the chain of command's backdoor. But that wasn't the backdoor to be concerned about, because that dominated the breadth of footage being shown. Climbing up ladders, fishing on that holographic chair and sat so daintily, in the heat of battle, lying down to sleep...

“Well, anything to say for yourself?”

His head lowered instinctively, maybe a reflex he had learned from observing human relics. It, of course, did no good – there again was 2B's torn outfit, the soft swell of her breasts, her full hips, her lips full of a promised yet never delivered smile...

“N... no ma'am.” Her thighs, and just between them... “I – I have no excuse.”

“And just what would you need an excuse for, scanner?” Her voice took a vertiginous shift; behind him now, and very close. The crop forced its way in the gap of his upper thighs, beneath his swelling erection. “Weren't you simply gathering data, as is your function?”

“N-no, or yes, b-but...”

A cool hand all at once wrapped about his warmth. 

“Are you contradicting me, 9S?” With longing, trailing movements of her fingers she brought him to his agonizing full length, released at last by the other hand playing at his waistband. Her voice was close, her lips on his ear. “Are you looking to be reprimanded?”

“Y-yes! E... er no, ma'am. I... should I c-continue my observational duties?”

“Step them up.” New footage obtruded, imagined footage – the small white leotard peeled away, revealing, just for him... “There's still data you missed.”

“H-haaa... e-er, yes ma'am! I... I will!”

Tension wracked his body with each slow, rhythmic stroke; it was like being caught in a widow's web or the most seductive and dangerous of firewalls. Death could come at any moment, but also...

His flexed cheeks were forced apart to admit the entry of the riding crop's handle, gliding not without difficulty until he could feel the wrapped crossguard start to spread him.

9S moaned pitifully and sank to the floor, unable to handle the competing stimulations.

“Are you sure you're up to it?” She stepped around before him – his mouth opened instinctively, tongue lolling, but that was not what she was after. The coarseness of her stocking forced his dick to the cool floor, the boot discarded haphazardly beside her bed. “This will be in addition to your other duties, which I see have you quite strained as it is.”

“I...” He bit down his sigh and shuddered. “I c-can't say no to – won't refuse...”

“Good.” His cock, just about to press into... “You may cum. Return to your duties once you've cleaned up.”

With a small sound, every bit as pitiful as his voice, his straining orgasm left an asymmetrical stain on the floor, spurting along the underside of her stocking. With an expression of amusement with a hint of disgust, she peeled it off – lingering enough to display her own wetness – before leaving it slung over his face. A second sound, moments later, as his muscles firing off the orgasm forced the crop from his ass.

“Yes ma'am.”


End file.
